


The Art of Thievery

by Wealthywetsunny



Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Angst, Comedy, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-24
Updated: 2020-06-24
Packaged: 2021-03-03 19:40:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,351
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24900958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wealthywetsunny/pseuds/Wealthywetsunny
Summary: Rook isn’t trying to be slick, she isn’t trying to hide what she’s doing. And that’s what makes this so fun. Not having to sneak around for once is strangely liberating—dangerous too, the more she thinks about it. Pride, most likely. That’s what has her going back again and again, taking risks and screwing people over that she probably shouldn’t.Or: the deputy makes a habit of stealing from the Seeds and it finally catches up with her
Comments: 4
Kudos: 41





	The Art of Thievery

Rook isn’t trying to be slick, she isn’t trying to hide what she’s doing. And  _ that’s _ what makes this so fun. Not having to sneak around for once is strangely liberating—dangerous too, the more she thinks about it. Pride, most likely. That’s what has her going back again and again, taking risks and screwing people over that she probably shouldn’t. 

Then again she would like to blame John. That’s where this started, and it only escalated from there. He gave her all the confidence she needed, he made her feel untouchable. It got her thinking that for some reason Jacob would be just as dense. But he’s  _ Jacob  _ and nothing goes on in these mountains without him knowing. 

She’s not naive though, she’s fully aware that he’s messing with her. That he doesn’t see her as any kind of threat. Which is why she brings it up a notch. Why she goes from stealing pens, notepads, and cans of food, to something larger. Something more noticeable. 

Something that might make him laugh. Because it surely does the job for her. Has her pressing a hand against her mouth to stifle the noises she makes as she sneaks into his training center—past the obstacle course where she watched his Chosen train all day—to inside the lodge. To where his soldiers sleep. 

A little birdy informed her that Jacob himself had made the trip to stay the night, overseeing the Chosen, and that makes this all the more sweeter. 

She tiptoes upstairs, keeping to the shadows the best she can. She peaks inside doorways, comes across rooms full of people she isn’t ready to fight if they wake, until she finds him. Jacob Seed, the big bad wolf of the mountains, sleeping, thank god. 

He’s on his back, one arm tossed over his stomach and the other under his head, beneath his pillow. She wouldn’t put it past him to keep a gun there. Meant specifically for people who are stupid enough to sneak up on a soldier while he sleeps. But she’s not here to kill him. She’s here to play the game she’s kept up for a whole month now. 

She’s going to keep her household name of  _ thief _ . Has a nice ring to it. Better than sinner, that’s for sure. 

Rook never takes long to decide what she steals, it’s always petty and small. Inconsequential items that never stirs the pot, just so it’s clear that this is only some fun. Because she doesn’t actually want to provoke Jacob, even if she intends to take something a bit bigger this time, nothing that would make him lose his shit. Not yet. She’s having a good time, she even finds herself looking forward to his radio calls. 

In the end she goes for his boots, hoping and praying that they don’t mean that much to him, and takes her leave out the back door unnoticed. Another win. 

That is until morning comes. 

She wakes up in the car she took refuge in to a siren blaring. A wolf beacon maybe? She can’t tell, her mind is still hazy from sleep and her radio is digging into her back painfully so. 

_ “You must think you’re funny or something, deputy.” _

At first she has no idea where his voice is coming from, all she knows is that it’s so recognizable that it physically hurts.

_ “It’s going to be a real shame when I finally get my hands on you and all this ends.” _

She lets out an annoyed grunt, hand finally groping for her radio which only serves to make Jacob’s voice louder in the enclosed space of the car. 

“Jacob. What a pleasant surprise.”

_ “Oh come on now, honey. No need to sound so upset. Thought you liked hearing my voice first thing.” _

She flushed, “did I say that?”

_ “I think you did. When I had you last, pinned under my boot and writhing, snapping your teeth like a wild thing.”  _ He laughs, and the sound makes her cringe because it’s mean. Not friendly and teasing like she’s so used to. 

_ “Speaking of my boots,” _

Oh, here we go. 

_ “Imagine how shocked I was when I couldn’t find them this morning. Like they just got up and walked away.” _

Finally she pops open the door and peers out. “Weird.”

_ “Yeah, it is. You wouldn’t happen to know where they went, would you?”  _

Rook’s quiet for a long time. Packing her things and stepping outside, head turning towards the source of the siren. Before she leaves, ready to run to shut the damn thing off, she snatches Jacob’s boots and shoves them inside her bag. 

“Nope. Why would I?”

He huffs,  _ “I’m gonna need those back. Besides, I doubt they’ll fit you.” _

She starts walking, achy muscles stretching and popping. “Look Seed, as much as I’d love to help you hunt for your shoes, I’ve got something I need to look into right now.” 

_ “Already?” _

“Yeah, no thanks to your men, I bet.” She turns her radio off immediately, doesn’t wait for any kind of answer. She knows Jacob, knows that he’d spend a better part of an hour speaking to her if he could. Which they’ve done before. Multiple times. 

She can’t afford that right now.

Rook navigates her way flawlessly through the woods, following the noise as it gets louder until she can’t even hear herself think. Except it’s not a wolf beacon. Not at all. Really at first glance she doesn’t know what she’s looking at. 

It’s sort of like a radio tower, metal upon metal going up ten feet in the air where it suddenly caps off. There are no cages for wild animals, no pit for wolves to fall into. Just a siren going off. It’s laughably easy to find the box located at the base to shut it off. Just a flip of a switch and it dies down. 

Then it dawns on her, as silence settles around her, that this very well may be a trap. She doesn’t go back the way she came, doesn’t trust that there won’t be someone waiting for her. Instead she walks forward, hand wrapped right around her pistol as she goes. 

She enters a clearing and immediately stops. This is a joke. Either that or Jacob has officially lost his mind. 

Tentatively she raises her radio back to her lips, flicking it on. “Jacob.”

_ “Oh now you want to talk? Thought you had shit to do.” _

“Mhm.” She looks at this mediocre child’s project laying before her and resists the urge to laugh. Then softly just as she realizes something. “You’re strangely free today.”

_ “I’m making time for you. You should feel special, deputy.” _

“Oh yeah,” she drawls, “I’m a real lucky girl.” When there isn’t an immediate response she dares to get closer. The trap in front of her is crude, not to mention an insult to her intelligence. It’s not like Jacob to be so obvious—it reminds her of John actually. 

“What the hell am I looking at, Jacob?”

There’s a pause and she can just hear the smile in his voice. “ _ How would I know?” _

The unspoken “because you’re probably watching me,” dies in her throat as she crouches down. 

There’s a cage, roof gone, propped up with a goddamn stick. Underneath the cage is a box, small and unsuspecting, with her name on it. She knows how this ends in the cartoons. That she gets under there and the whole thing comes down on top of her. Like she’s a goddamn dog. 

What in the actual fuck. 

“You really want your shoes back.”

_ “I told you I needed them.” _

She laughs, “Really? All this over some fucking shoes? I could’ve stolen something so much more important.”

_ “Not if you want to stay free, you won’t.”  _

Okay, okay he’s threatening her now. She’s toed the line, went a bit too far this time and she hadn’t even meant to. Fuck. 

“How about we do this civilly? Like adults.” Rook is backing away now, not trusting that Jacob’s best soldiers aren't set up along the tree line ready to take her down. She isn't prepared to go back to the Vet Center, the thought of running his trials makes her sick and she can’t do it right now. 

“Jacob?”

_ “I heard you.” _ His voice is softer now, a gentle thing that makes her shiver. 

She opens her mouth to speak and coughs, has to try again when her throat clicks. “Gonna be honest you’re starting to scare—ahhh!” Her words get cut off by her own terrified yelp. 

It takes her a second, when she finally pries open her eyes, to realize what has happened. The world isn’t right anymore, everything is all topsy turvy because she’s hanging in the air. Confined to a ball of net that connects to a tree. 

She dropped her radio when the rope yanked her up, but her bag is still snug against her back. Which is actually terrible because the net she’s in is already tight. Cutting into her skin and making her squirm. 

“Look at what I caught.”

That’s not coming from her radio. It’s closer and deeper and so much more real than she had ever hoped for.

“Didn’t think I’d snag myself a deputy today. Looks like dreams do come true.” Jacob finally appears in her periphery, a predatory smile on his face. “Ain’t that right, honey?” 

“Get me down.”

He touches the net, rough fingers gliding along her jeans as he does so, “and why would I do that? You’ve been fucking with me for a while now, this is a two way street.”

Carefully he unsheathes his knife from where it usually rests on his thigh. He twirls it around, fingers tapping against the sharpened tip. “Where are they?”

She narrows her eyes, considers playing coy but ultimately decides against it when he fixes her with cold, blue eyes. 

“My bag.”

He nods and wordlessly rounds on her. She feels a hand press against her tailbone, urging her to keep still for the moment as he cuts away at the rope. He does so carefully, in such a calculated way that makes her think that he’s done this before. He makes a large enough hole to grab at her bag, her shoulder jams and she curses, and she hears him chuckle. She almost falls out onto the dirt, body dropping slightly as the net gives way. But he’s smart and the hole he cut isn’t big enough for that. She’d have to squirm and wriggle around to get out, though she can’t do that in front of Jacob. 

She hears her bag unzip and knows that he won’t have to look around for his shoes, they’re fucking massive and barely fit in her bag. 

“Nice doing business with you, deputy. I trust you can get yourself out.”

She frowns, twisting to watch him walk away. “You mean you’re not taking me?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” He calls over his shoulder.

“More like disbelief.”

She counts to one hundred in her head before she pries herself out of the net. The cold ground embraces her none too gently. It takes her a second to get up on her feet and still she takes the time to glance around. Making extra sure that Jacob or any of his men isn’t around. 

Rook grabs for her radio instantly, sighing gently with eyes closed before she speaks. “You do realize I’m not going to stop just because you caught me this once, right?”

_ “I wouldn’t count on it.” _

——

Jacob hasn’t seen nor heard from Rook in over two weeks. He knows why. To an extent. She’s been busy in Holland Valley, taking up John’s time and giving him a break since their last encounter. He’s still on his toes though, makes sure his men keep him posted because he’s just waiting for the day she finally comes back to make his life a living hell once more. 

He doesn’t know what she’s doing though, John didn’t say anything too specific when they last spoke. Nothing out of the ordinary for their deputy. She’s blowing up silos and taking outposts. 

Not stealing. Not like John’s said anything, Jacob certainly hasn’t. It’s nothing he can’t deal with, and he knows John would throw a fit, call her greedy and selfish. Which is why Jacob’s convinced she’s only doing this to him—has him feeling special. 

*****

Rook has been dropping by John’s place since the beginning. After all:  _ That’s where this started.  _

But she hasn’t been back to his ranch since she started fucking around with Jacob two weeks ago, and honestly, she misses the easy elegance of taking from John. It’s less stressful, she won’t end up in any traps, that’s for sure. Only because he hasn’t noticed. 

Yet. 

God forbid Jacob tells anyone—which she’s almost positive he hasn’t. She doesn’t need John on high alert. This is her safe place, her training grounds. She sticks to the same plan, takes only small things. Toiletries, mostly. Things she needs. Things he won’t notice. Just like when she stole from Jacob. And she learned her lesson on that one, not to take anything too important. 

The resistance wanted his house—still do—but Rook wants something more than that this time around, something more than shampoo and nail clippers. She opens every door, rummages through every cabinet. No stone is left unturned in her wake. There isn’t anything out of the ordinary, nothing that wouldn’t normally draw attention. But to her, to someone who has been living the roughest kind of life since getting to Hope, the things she sees makes her head spin. 

The sheer amount of clothes John has gives her an idea that she’s surprised she hasn’t thought of until now. Really, would he notice one missing shirt? Just one silk pair of socks gone out of dozens wouldn’t catch his attention. She’d be lying to herself if she said she didn’t walk into his home looking to take  _ something _ . She hasn’t been a good person for a long while, ever since that first day when she smashed someone’s head in with a stick. 

It doesn’t seem like John is home, she hasn’t heard anything yet, but she doesn’t want to dawdle. And so she moves fast as she skims through his closet. She can’t pick anything too obvious—one of his silky button ups would be foolish and raise questions—she goes for a black vest because she always thought they looked great on John and she’s hoping the same will go for her. Not to mention the man has dozens. 

Without hesitation she yanks it down from the hanger and slips it over her plain white tee. It’s big, but not massive. Which makes sense, John isn’t a large man by any stretch of the imagination. It works, and when she passes by the full length mirror by the door, she has to stop.

Rook let’s out a laugh, oh yeah, she pulls this off perfectly. 

Which means it’s time to get the hell out of dodge. 

——

He’s going to murder her. Draw it out nice and slow just for the hell of it. He’ll probably broadcast it, make a mockery out of her name. Because he’s pissed—angry enough to swap bliss bullets for the real deal. 

It dawns on her that she can’t stay here, not in the mountains. He’ll find her no matter how far she runs. Seeking refuge in another region isn’t new, but she’s never had John angry at her as well. Which is Jacob’s fault really. John hadn't even known she’d stolen from him, that she’d taken his vest a few nights ago, until Jacob had called him. 

Jacob caught her, or more accurately Jacob’s men had. And when Jacob had come around to the cage she’d been left in, a flask dangling from his fingertips, he paused at her appearance. 

She let him stare, not talking only because the way he was staring at her was...different. 

“What are you wearing?” 

Then when she hadn’t answered, “that belongs to John. What have you two been up to?”

Him radioing his brother—that wasn’t a conversation she wanted to hear. Jacob thought that there was some dirty little secret between them, he was wrong. And now John knew. He knew and would be there by morning to deal with her. It was only by a stroke of luck that Pratt was with Jacob that day. That she grabbed his wrist and begged him to help her get out. 

And she did. Which is how she’s running right now, tripping over branches and tossing herself into streams to throw her scent. He wouldn’t even be going at her as hard as he is if she hadn’t snuck into his office and took his music box. His jacket. Really it was most likely the jacket that got him worked up. 

She’s on the border of the Henbane, an area she’d rather not traverse because fuck the bliss, but John won’t let her into the Valley without a fight. 

She makes it by a hair, just as a bullet grazes her thigh and sends her sprawling. She hits the ground hard, rolls down a hill over and over again. Right until she hits a stream face first. It makes the fresh wound on her leg burn. That’s about around the time she notices the bliss in the air. 

The water. 

Rook scrambles to get up, but running in water isn’t particularly easy. Finally she gets her bearing and finds dry land. She hits the dirt with a pained groan, rolling over on her back to look up at the night sky. The wolves have stopped, so have the soldiers. They’re keeping to their boundaries. 

She’s safe. Blissed to her very core, yes, but safe. And so she rolls over and let’s the bliss take her. 

*****

_ “I don’t think running is going to save you this time, my dear. Seems like you’ve got nowhere to go.”  _ John is smug, rightfully so. Chirping out for all to hear that she’s his. “ _ Toss aside your pride and admit it. You’re trapped.”  _ He laughs, sounding utterly excited about her escape. As he should be, he’s close on her heels. 

_ “You’d be better picking one of us and dealing with the consequences. Though I should inform you that I’ll treat you much better than my brother or sister ever would, deputy.”  _

She...isn’t so sure that’s true. Not all his words are false though, she doesn’t have anywhere left to run to. Eventually she will have to make a choice because all the Seeds are pissed at her. At once. A feat she didn’t think possible. 

Looks like her days of thievery caught up with her. Except she isn’t too sure why Faith is angry. Jacob and John, yeah that’s obvious, and even Joseph can be understandable. She made his brothers cry wolf. 

What did she do to Faith though? 

_ “You’re getting awful close to the mountains, my dear. Are you sure you want to deal with Jacob’s wrath? He has been very upset that you’ve taken his things. I can be far more forgiving.”  _

Her footfalls are getting slower, her breaths coming out heavier. She doesn’t know how long she’s been running, except it feels like she’s crossed the whole Valley. She’s no marathon runner. And eventually she has to stop. 

John doesn’t need bliss bullets to load her into his car. He does it all on his own, takes her exhausted body in his arms and coos in her ear. He slides her into the backseat, getting in beside her and ordering his man to drive. She leans against him, head bumping on his shoulder. 

“There we go, rest, deputy. I’ll take care of you and in exchange we’ll have a little talk. Perhaps you can explain to me how a third of my closet has gone missing.” 

*****

She must’ve dozed off during the drive, because suddenly she’s opening her eyes and she’s no longer in John’s car. She’s lying against a solid wall of heat, sitting on a leather couch that her thighs stick to. 

Rook makes a move to get up, maybe to strike out, but arms wrap around her tight and it dawns on her that John isn’t the one holding her. John isn’t this strong. 

“Nuh-uh. You’re staying right here, honey. Seems like someone needs to keep an eye on you.” He squeezes her for emphasis. “Nice jacket, by the way.” 

She winces at Jacob’s drawl. Slow and languid. Perhaps angry, she can’t tell with him. 

Carefully she cranes her neck around, lifting her head up away from his chest to see where they are. She frowns, it’s darker than she first noticed. And cold, her legs have goosebumps already. She turns, wiggling around to hook her chin on his shoulder to look behind them. 

She doesn’t recognize this room. 

A deep pit forms in her stomach when she notices the door. The metal door with a wheel valve to open it. 

“Whose bunker is this?”

He snorts, a hand running down her spine. Making her shiver. 

“It isn’t fucking funny,” she snaps. Teeth turning sharp as she sinks them into the meat of his shoulder. The mountain of a man does nothing more than grunt, grabbing at the back of her neck to pry her away where he tucks her back against his chest. 

“You’re in a whole lot of trouble here, deputy. I don’t think you realize that. You’re not in a position to ask questions.”

She doesn’t argue with that. Can’t. Not when she’s wearing his jacket and John’s socks. Not when her bag—the one that’s no longer on her back—had a myriad of things that belong to them. 

He drums out a beat on her spine. Tap tap tapping. “Where’s my music box?” His beard tickles the shell of her ear as he leans down. 

Rook smiles, a laugh leaving her as nerves tangle her up inside. “I smashed it. Took a baseball bat to the thing. Then I shot it for good measure.” 

Jacob sighs, “of course you did. Fucking brat.” 

The door squeals on it’s metal hinges, swinging open all too slowly for her liking. She can’t quite see who comes through, but she certainly hears their voice. 

“Found it! I told you she took it, Jacob!” 

Jacob glances over his shoulder, his frown turning into an amused curl of lips as his eyebrows raise. “Huh.”

“That’s all you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say, John?” His head tracks John across the room until he falls down onto the coffee table in front of them. She tips her head to meet his gaze, where he’s burning a hole into her. 

He wiggles a copy of The Book of Joseph at her, knuckles white around the spine where he grips it. “We lost this. Faith was losing her goddamn mind over this! And she had the audacity to steal it with no regard for us!” He stands up, tossing the book down on the table as he stalks over to her and jabs a finger in her face. “Greed, that’s what I’ll put on your chest, sinner.”

She frowns but doesn’t say anything. She didn’t...she didn’t steal that. Did she? 

He tosses up his hands when he doesn’t get a response, obviously eager for a fight. “I’m not even mad about the clothes anymore, this is different. You’ve made my family very upset and that means war.”

“Dramatic bitch,” she sneers at him. 

She feels Jacob shake with a stifled laugh and she sees John’s face go slack before he’s alight with rage she’s never seen before. 

He takes a step forward, ready to strike. To maim and torture, to do what he knows best. But he stops short, hand poised and dangerous gets halted by the alarm that sounds. 

Rescue.

That’s where her mind jumps to first. Intruders at the gate looking for a fight. Wanting to break her out of this hell hole. 

But then John’s radio goes off and she pales. “Brothers I need you at the entrance. We have—“ Joseph’s normally calm voice is cut off by an explosion. “Oh lord help up—it's come. The time it’s here.”

John shares a panicked look with Jacob before he grabs at where his radio rests on his hips. “Joseph what’s happening up there? The alarm…”

“The Collapse. I need help watching the gate.”

Jacob’s up then, letting her fall against the couch as he snatches the radio from John’s hand. “We have to get back to our bunkers. This is John’s gate—we’re needed elsewhere, Joe. You, me, Faith.”

She hears Joseph gasp on the other end. The bunkers lights flicker and a hue of red overtakes them. Emergency lighting. Smart. 

“It’s too late.”

Jacob runs his hand through his hair. “Fuck. We’ll be there in a minute.”

He doesn’t spare Rook a second glance, already gone. John on the other hand hesitates. He meets her gaze and snarls. “You don’t deserve a spot in Eden, none of your friends do.” He takes a shaky step forward and he’s finally close enough that she can see the fear in his eyes. “This conversation isn’t over. Not by a long shot. We have seven long years together, deputy. You’ll be the first sinner to be converted, we’ll make an example out of you. You’ll be punished for what you’ve done, for leading us here and abandoning our post, for being unprepared.”

He glares at her, hugging his coat closer to his body as he sweeps his gaze across her huddled form. “You’ll never know peace, deputy. Enjoy it now while it lasts.” He storms out in a huff, taking his rage and tension with him. Sucking the life out of the room as he goes. Sucking the life out of  _ her,  _ where she finally breaks and buries her head in the arm rest and  _ cries _ . 


End file.
